


Dazed

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Female Bombur, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 16:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4632480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bombur’s beautiful and Bilbo’s a fool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dazed

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Bombur is just about the prettiest woman Bilbo has ever seen. I don't care if they get together or what you decide to do about Bombur's wife, I just want Bilbo being a lovesick little fool because of the gorgeous Ms. Bombur” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/9471.html?thread=20703999#t20703999).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She’s absolutely _beautiful_ , and if it weren’t for her, Bilbo probably wouldn’t be here at all. Yes, there were _some_ things that sounded vaguely alluring about an _adventure_ , and perhaps he would like to meet elves and hear new stories, but mostly, Bilbo couldn’t imagine letting Bombur walk out his door for good. 

He never said two words to her. He tried. He opened his mouth a few times, but only let out little squeaks and stared, while she bit away at his cheese wheels one chunk at a time. 

In a way, he’s bizarrely grateful that the dwarves waited for him to accept, rather than wandering down to the next hobbit. As uninterested in outside life as Shire-folk can be, the dwarves would be hard pressed to find a hobbit not interested in their sheer girth. Most like a bit of meat to their mates, and shallow as Bilbo feels for thinking it, Bombur’s just about the most impressive woman he’s ever seen. She’s maybe twice as thick as him, with rich, vibrant hair all around her face, even up the bottoms of her cheeks, and a braid so large Bilbo could wrap himself in it. Just thinking about it makes him shiver. He knows he stares too much, and he _tries_ not to, but none of the dwarves seem to mind, and he vainly tells himself that maybe in their crude, indecent culture, it’s okay. 

If anything, Bombur just gives him smiles when she sees him. They’re riding almost side by side, Bilbo a little back because he’s vaguely ashamed of himself, but she must know he’s there. He watches the sun wash across all her luscious curves, watches the slight jiggle of her body with each step of her pony, and he has to remind himself to blink every so often, when his eyes get too dry to stand.

He’s still staring when it happens: he loses such track of himself that he goes slipping over the side of his pony, and he’s too moonstruck to think anything but joy at getting a different angle of Bofur to ogle. 

Then he’s abruptly falling through the air, his grip on the reins giving way, and he hits the grass sideways with a horrified, ‘oomph,’ automatically swallowed up in the underbrush. The fauna’s thick enough to cushion him so that nothing breaks, but it still hurts, and he’s stunned with that, while his pony stops and neighs above him. Bombur’s stops too, and Fíli and Kíli behind him, laughing raucously at his misfortune. Bilbo’s never been so embarrassed in all his life. He _told_ them he was no good at riding, but he didn’t imagine he’d screw up so very badly in front of the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

It takes him a moment to move, because he’s so very petrified. Then he pushes up and sweeps some of the broken grass off him, one flower having been caught in his hair—he can see a large, pink petal casting a shadow over his nose. Blushing hotly, he stumbles up to his feet and plucks it off, then, before he can stop himself, hands it up to Bombur. 

She takes it immediately, beaming to make a pretty arch out of her chin and cheeks. She rumbles, “Thank you,” then chuckles, “I haven’t gotten a flower from a man since before I was married!” She tucks it behind her ear while Bilbo gapes, feeling more foolish than ever. 

He makes himself close his mouth. Somehow, he manages to scramble back up onto his pony, fueled by adrenaline and the urge to get as far away from this danger zone as possible—of course, he should’ve known a woman like her would be taken, and he’s not so terrible as to discount her choice. When he’s back on his pony’s back, he’s acutely aware of all the others having stopped to stare at him, some glaring and others snorting behind their hands, but it’s Bombur that Bilbo feels he owes an explanation to. He opens his mouth, but as usual, he has nothing. 

She winks and mumbles, “You know, I don’t think I’d mind a second husband.” Then she flicks her reins, and her pony moves on, leaving Bilbo to blink numbly at the space where she used to be.

He had no idea dwarves were like that. For once, he doesn’t even think about the indecency. Just that she sounded _interested_ , and that felt like an _invitation_ , and maybe _he has a chance with the most gorgeous woman to ever set foot in the Shire._

He sits still, equal parts shocked and swooning, until Fíli and Kíli come up to slap his pony’s rump. Then he’s bolted forward, more embarrassed than ever, to Bombur’s amused smile and the bellowed laughter of the company.


End file.
